Journey Through the Past- Chapter 18
Grissom woke with a start. He was lying on a cot in a 10 by 10 square foot windowless room. A single dim light bulb hung from the ceiling. He was shivering uncontrollably though not from being cold. Grissom clenched his teeth together to keep them from chattering as he hugged himself in an attempt to keep his body still and to keep the cramping in his abdomen at bay. An incessant buzzing was ringing in his ears, and he couldn't tell whether the sound was coming from inside his head or whether there was some kind of alarm going off. He moved his arms from around himself and covered his ears with his hands hoping to deaden the sound. The sound then changed to wailing, like that of a baby in distress. Memories of Rachel and Scott flooded through his head and he tried to block out the crying of his son. It was of no use.
Grissom sat up still holding his head and brought his knees up, pressing his forehead against them. He rocked back and forth, groaning from his misery. C'mon Gil. Get yourself together. C'mon. Just hold it together. You can do this. C'mon, damn it. Keep it together. Squeezing his eyes shut, Grissom tried to slow his breathing and took long measured breaths and blew them out slowly through his mouth. He was met with limited success. His body continued to shake, but the cramps in his gut had somewhat abated. The crying was fading in and out, but then came other sounds mixed in with the crying, screams of terror or pain, explosions, and a myriad of voices, echoing in and out of his brain. Visions of his past flashed through his mind. Scenes of his brief time with Rachel and the birth of his son, the explosion of the car, Catherine, Brass, Warrick, Nick, Al Robbins, Greg Sanders, and Sara and the rest of the staff at CSI all flitted through his mind, their voices echoing in muted tones.
The door of the cell softly creaked open. Scott glanced over his shoulder to make sure that no one else in the hallway. He slipped through the door and quietly closed it behind him. He crouched down and watched the man on the cot slowly rock back and forth, his eyes were tightly closed, and he was practically rolled up in a ball. Soft moans were emanating from Grissom. Scott watched Grissom, silently taking in the man's misery. Beads of sweat had started forming on suffering man's forehead, and his mutterings were becoming louder and louder. He was raking his hands through his salt and pepper curls, trying to hold his head together. Grissom was losing his battle to keep himself under control.
Scott crept forward in an attempt to hear what Grissom was muttering, hoping to read his lips. The man was clearly in misery. Scott reached out and tentatively touched Grissom's hand.
Grissom's head immediately shot up, and he wildly stared at the young man crouched before him. The young face before him slowly came into focus. Grissom clenched his teeth and looked down at the young man's hand that was now holding his. Scott was clasping his hand tightly, and Grissom stared at it as if it were a snake swallowing his hand.
Scott bent his head to peer into his father's face, and, in return, Grissom shifted his head slightly and looked up. The images flashing in front of him gradually receded, and Grissom stared into the intense dark blue eyes that mirrored his own. The face was familiar, reminding of him of himself but at the same time had the fine features of someone he could not quite place. Scott tried to ease his hand out of Grissom's, but Grissom held on to his hand tightly, continuing to stare at him. What did Mallory say? That Rachel and Scott were not killed in the explosion? That they had survived? If they survived, then is this? Is this? Could this be? Instinctively, Grissom knew that this young man was his son.
"Scott. You're Scott…" whispered Grissom weakly as guilt and shame washed over him.
Slowly Scott nodded, never taking his eyes off of Grissom's face. Scott gently but firmly pried his hand from Grissom's grip. Grissom's son had just wanted to see what was happening to the man who was his father. He hadn't come with a plan, and he wasn't sure what to do next. Scott only knew that he couldn't stay too long or he would be discovered, and that would be disastrous for both of them. Scott stood up and took a step backward.
"Wait…please, don't go…don't…," Grissom gasped softly as a spasm shook him.
"Scott…I did…didn't mean…to…Scott. I didn't mean to abandon your mother or you. I didn't know…," Grissom struggled to control the shaking as tears glistened in his eyes. He tried to lift himself off the cot to reach out to Scott, but only succeeded in falling off the cot onto his knees. Grissom fell backward onto the floor with his back against the cot. He felt too weak to move from his place on the floor, try as he might.
Grissom clenched his hands tightly around his knees and stared desperately at Scott who was edging closer to the door. Scott slowly lifted his hands in front of him. When his mother was still alive and his hearing was mostly gone, Rachel had taught him to sign and letting him know that she had learned it from Grissom. He stared intently at his father, willing his father to understand.
I have to go. I promise I will be back. No one knows that I am here. Our secret for now. Don't tell anyone I was here, understand? I promise to come back as soon as I can, okay?
Though Grissom's mind was hazy, the fact that his son was signing to him was not lost on him, but he didn't want to young man to leave. He miserably nodded his head, realizing that he didn't have much of a choice. Grissom bent his head, rested his forehead on his knees, and heard the lock click into place, leaving him alone once more.
Scott gently closed the door and stared at it for a moment, thinking. He wasn't sure what to make of the man suffering on the other side of the door. Scott had witnessed plenty drug abuse victims go through withdrawal, and while Grissom was suffering similar physical withdrawal symptoms as the other patients, there was something that was different with the way he was reacting. Then it struck him. Other patients, when they were going through the throes of the cramping, hallucinations, and shaking had often begged for more drugs, that the withdrawal was too painful. Grissom was suffering through it, but he was fighting through it. That, in itself, was somewhat unusual. He didn't ask to be relieved of the suffering. There was more going on with Grissom than Jones had let on. Determined to find out more, he left the building being careful to make sure that no one would observe him.
Scott quietly crossed the compound, always keeping to the shadows. It would not be good for Mallory or Jones to find him wandering around the building where Grissom had just been transferred. As he stealthily made his way to the corner of the next building, Scott observed Mallory in his white lab coat and the two prison guards headed towards the building where Sara was being housed. Curious, Scott waited until they were in the building before he followed them.
Looking over his shoulder, Scott approached the building. He paused and slowly opened the door only a crack. Peeking in, he watched as Mallory and the guards entered Sara's cell, leaving the door slightly ajar. Sliding quickly through the entrance and carefully closing the door behind him, he edged his way forward, enough where he could hear Mallory's voice.
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Sara heard the latch of the door click open, and she was standing up in a second, her back to the wall. Scott had been here a little while ago so unless he was here to pick up her tray, she was sure that she had another visitor. Lucas Mallory sauntered through the doorway with a smug smile on his face. Lopez and Baker followed in behind him.
Glancing down at the untouched food, Mallory sneered," Not much of an appetite, I see. Too worried about Grissom?"
Sara didn't offer a response but glared at the man with hatred in her eyes.
"Nevertheless, Sara, I have been thinking about what you can do to help me with my game with Grissom. You like games, don't you? I've thought about this and you will play prominently in my plans."
"Whatever you're planning, I'm not going to cooperate. I won't help you," said a defiant Sara Sidle.
"Oh, Sara… You're not going to have much of a choice. Grissom is right where I want him, both emotionally and physically. By the time I'm finished with him, he will be so filled with guilt and shame, that you won't recognize the man," Mallory said with a wide grin on his face.
Mallory continued, "I can see why Grissom chose you. You're quite spunky. Rachel had that kind of spunk, but her weakness was her son. She was quite cooperative when she realized that the life of her son was at stake. Imagine how Grissom would feel if you don't play my little game and it endangers his son."
"Speaking of his son, the young man is a regular chip off the old block, except that he's deaf. I guess that's something else he inherited from his old man. I understand that Grissom had otosclerosis, a condition he inherited from his mother. Too bad the young man couldn't have corrective surgery before he lost his hearing. That's something else Grissom can take the blame for," smirked a jovial Lucas Mallory.
"What do you mean "Rachel was" and "had"? Where is she? What have you done with her?" hissed Sara.
"Are you worried about the competition, Sara? You needn't worry. Rachel died some time ago. She contracted some kind of virus. Kenny could do nothing to save her. I understand that's when the boy quit speaking. His hearing was gone sometime before that but he could still speak. He just stopped when she died. Yet another thing Grissom can feel guilty about. Had he kept out of my business, his wife would probably still be alive, and his son wouldn't be a mute."
Mallory continued, "I think that it's time to get started, Sara."
Mallory nodded to Baker and Lopez, and they stepped forward and grabbed Sara's arms. She struggled against them as they tossed her on to the cot. Sara bucked and kicked, trying to bite and head butt the men as they pinned her down.
"No…no… let me go," she panted, continuing to struggle against the two men.
"Hold her still, guys. Sara, you'll find a burning sensation, but then it'll be all good," said Mallory with a smile.
He held up the needle he had withdrawn from his pocket, and squirted a drop or two of the concoction to be sure there were no air pockets. As the men held her down, Sara stared as the needle was plunged into her arm. True to his word, she felt burning course through her arm and then through her body. Sara gave one more burst of protest, but the men were too strong. As the hallucinogenic cocktail coursed through her veins, the young woman felt herself go limp, and her vision started to blur. Lopez and Baker eased off of her and backed away.
Sara gazed at her attackers and watched their faces blur and then elongate into shapeless masses. She heard them speak but could not make out the words. The drugged woman lay limply on the cot, her eyes glazed over as her head rocked from side to side.
Mallory slipped the empty syringe back into his lab coat pocket and turned to his two assistants. "She's tripping now. Her next dose should be in about four more hours. Grissom is due in about an hour. You guys get something to eat and meet me back at Grissom's cell. I doubt that I will need you, but you never know," said Mallory quietly.
Though the door was left slightly open, Scott could not clearly hear everything being said but was able to get the gist of the conversation. He heard the brief struggle as Sara was being subdued and then it was quiet. Realizing that the three men were finished with Sara for the time being, Scott slipped noiselessly past the cell door and stole into the supply closet just as Mallory and the guards emerged from Sara's cell. They walked the opposite direction from the closet and left the building. Scott waited a few minutes to make sure they were gone and walked quickly to Sara's door.
With his pass key, he opened the door and entered her cell. Scott called her name softly, but the woman lying on the cot was oblivious to her surroundings. He crept up to her and turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were glazed over and unfocused. Sara was breathing rapidly and a slight trembling had begun in her limbs. Shaking his head, Scott realized there was nothing he could do for her right at that moment, but perhaps there might be something he could do before she received her next dose. Standing up, the young man made his way to the door and let himself out.
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Dr. Ken Jones entered his cousin's lab that had been set up for him since his arrival. Mallory was filling syringes of his latest concoction and then carefully labeling them. Jones paused for a moment and watched his cousin as he busily continued his work.
"Lucas, I want to talk to you. I thought we agreed to keep Grissom in the infirmary for a few more days until he was a little stronger."
Lucas turned around and smiled widely at Jones. "I decided to pick up the pace a bit. Things are happening in Vegas. It means that Grissom has to be ready a little sooner than I had anticipated. Don't worry, Kenny. It's all good. Trust me."
"What do you mean? This was just supposed to be getting a little revenge on Grissom for your little stint in Folsom. You were going take care of him and then disappear, go away from here. What's going on in Vegas that I need to know about?"
"You know, Kenny, I think that being stuck out here in the desert for so long has narrowed your vision and thinking. My plans have changed a bit is all. My "friends" want a little more control over the law enforcement in this state, and for starters, they've decided that their hold of the Las Vegas Police Department needs to be a little stronger. That's where Grissom comes in."
"Lucas, I've managed to build a legitimate business here. I haven't any dealings with your "friends" for a long time, and I've paid them back a thousandfold for my start here. I've turned it around, and the only reason why you're even here is because you're family." Taking a deep breath, Jones continued, "I've put all that behind me. I have a respectable reputation now, and I want to keep it that way."
Mallory gave Jones a long, hard look. "Kenny, how naïve can you be? You can never pay them back and think that everything is even. From the first time you allowed them to pay your way through med school and then set up your practice, you have been in their back pocket. Do you honestly think that they have forgotten about you? Don't you understand that they own you…and me, for that matter?"
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Catherine entered Grissom's office where Greg and Nick were both waiting for her.
"Okay, guys. Where's the fire?" asked Catherine in an impatient tone. "I'm assuming that you found a link between McKeen and the 5th Street Knights, right?"
Nick glanced at Greg and cleared his throat. "Catherine, not exactly. I think that we should wait for Jim. Greg and I found a link all right, but you're not going to believe what we found."
Jim Brass lightly tapped on the doorframe to announce his arrival. "I saw Warrick in the break room and suggested that he make his way down here."
"I'm here," said Warrick, curious to why they were meeting in Grissom's office. Greg reached over and closed the door, making sure the blinds were shut.
Catherine sat behind Grissom's desk.
"I take it that what you found is not what we were expecting," Catherine said, wanting to get to the point.
"I think we should all sit down first, and then Nick and I will show you the results of our search," said Greg, trying to delay the inevitable.
"C'mon guys. Out with it," said an impatient Jim Brass.
"While Greg was searching for patterns in the purchases of properties from the same company that owned the warehouse where Sara was taken and from the safe house, I decided to check with the gang unit and the narco squad about any recent activities. I contacted Detective Cavaliere about any recent arrests his unit might have made. Anyway, the PD has in custody one Zachary Bessler for possession and trafficking. He is a member of the Knights and this is his third arrest. In his possession, he had a notebook with a list of addresses in which he was to pick up drop offs on what dates. One of the entries included the warehouse and the date/time was the same as when Grissom and Sara were at the warehouse," said a grim Nick Stokes.
"So Mallory told Grissom to meet him at this warehouse and didn't know that a drop was being made?" asked Catherine. "That sounds like incredibly poor planning."
"Well, not exactly. In the course of the interrogation, Bessler said the whole fiasco at the warehouse was a drug deal gone bad. Seems that a whole lot more money was demanded for what was being distributed."
"Mallory tried to double-cross his own people? He wanted to cut his own throat or what? Why have Grissom meet him there if he knew a drop was being made?" questioned Brass, knowing that a drug deal going bad was not exactly unusual, but going against your own organization was a death sentence.
"That's just it. Mallory knew that a drop was to be made. Bessler claims that Grissom was supposed to be there," said Nick.
"So Grissom was part of the deal? Mallory was going hand Grissom over to the Knights? Why would the Knights want Grissom? I know why Mallory wanted him- for revenge, but the Knights? Was that his revenge? What would they have to gain except to have all of the Las Vegas PD down their throats more than they already are," commented Catherine.
"No, you're not understanding. Grissom was the one who was there making the drop," said a solemn Greg Sanders.
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A/N: Another chapter up. I'm hoping this storyline is working for all of you. I struggled a bit with this chapter as I felt some of the transitions between scenes were a little too abrupt or not detailed enough. It is what it is I guess. Please let me know what you all think….bgreer